


shadowpuppet

by theredtailedhawkwithjewelsforeyes



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Elements of Horror, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, POV Second Person, The story is nicer than the tags, spooky jaskier, weird fucked up monster time :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24081988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredtailedhawkwithjewelsforeyes/pseuds/theredtailedhawkwithjewelsforeyes
Summary: Put your hands up, palms facing inwards, fingers spread. Cross your wrists, thumbs together.Now- are you listening? Look down at your shadow. Look up at your shadow, to the side, behind you. There are your hands, twistingly long, and they’re shaped like they might fly away.You’ve made yourself smaller, human- you make yourself into that little bird. It’s a tiny shape, and fleeting, and free.When you leave Oxenfurt, it’s not the end of anything. The whole world has shadows and the whole world has birds and you’re ready to explore.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 39
Kudos: 171





	shadowpuppet

**Author's Note:**

> uh oh 
> 
> back again

~~ Ever since you were little- like really little, like before you could walk or speak and all you could do was scream, scream,  _ scream _ , wet angry cries-  ~~

~~ Ever since you were little you were scared of the dark.  ~~

~~ Your mother told you  _ no, sweet thing, it’s not the dark you’re scared of, it’s the things  _ in _ the dark _ \- but you knew better. You are scared of the dark because if something disappears you would have no way of knowing. When your mother laid you down to rest she went away forever, in your little frightened mind, and you were left all alone.  ~~

~~ Things disappear in the dark.  ~~

~~ You disappear in the dark. ~~

~~ That’s a silly thing to be afraid of. You are told it over and over, and you learn it slowly, until-  ~~

~~ - ~~

~~ You are scared of the dark.  ~~

~~ You are scared of what’s in the dark.  ~~

~~ You are scared of what’s not in the dark.  ~~

-

(Time is syrup. Time is sweet thick honey dripping on your tongue, in your eyes, down your cheeks like tears.)

-

~~ When you were a little boy, you were scared of the dark. ~~

The dark takes you.

-

Your name is Jaskier. You love to sing.  ~~When you were a little boy~~ , the dark swallowed you up whole. The dark swallowed you up screaming. 

-

(Time is a slow and steady leap. Time is a crawl backwards. Time is )

-

Shadows have teeth. You count them- one, two, three, four- count all the way up to one hundred- count all the way up to one thousand. Jagged and glittering and gleaming white. 

~~ When you were a little boy, the dark swallowed you up whole. It took away your mother and your father and your pretty house with the nice dinner plates you could only use on special occasions, and it took away the meadows outside with the sunshine and the little yellow flowers. It took away your baby sister, a wrinkled little thing with tiny fingers and tinier fingernails and a tuft of downy hair. ~~

~~ You wave goodbye but she has her little eyes closed.  ~~

-

(Time’s a creeping dust.)

-

~~ Ever since you were little you’ve been scared of the dark- when ~~ it takes you it wraps you up so tight and so cold. It sinks into your lungs so you can breathe. You learn 

to count 

on

its 

teeth 

and 

the glint of its eyes, beady and black and swarming. Your name is Jaskier- it’s not Jaskier. It’s Jaskier anyway. You learn to sing and it sounds, at first, like screaming. 

-

(Time is )

-

Here is how you live: 

here is how the dark lives: 

here is how a shadow lives: 

tastelessly, tucked away in a cave, in a corner. In the dip of a cupids bow.

-

things disappear in the dark you disappear in the dark you are the dark

You are the dark. You have many sisters and many brothers and you’re all together, all one thing- different eyes, different teeth, different long and spindly fingers. There is nothing in you. You are everywhere. 

-

You are not you. Not anymore. 

Your name is  ~~ Julian ~~ Jaskier. 

(Here is how you live: secretly. You sing. You are the dark but you are also Jaskier. Do you understand? 

Here is how you live: in the corner of a library. 

Your too long fingers reach out, take a book. 

You learned to count on teeth and eyes and you learn to read in the dark. 

  
  
Here is how you live: in the corner of a school. You are a shadow creeping out. You smile with too many teeth and your long, long fingers pluck at the strings of a lute.)

-

The students leave out little offerings for you. They think you’re a monster. Are you a monster? You’re a little boy. Your name is  ~~ Julian ~~ Jaskier. 

You’re not a little boy. You’re a shadow. 

You’re not a little boy. The darkness took you. 

-

When you were a little boy, you were scared of the dark. The dark took you. 

You 

step 

out of the shadows. 

-

(Do you know what Jaskier means in the Old Tongue? 

Buttercup.

Sunshine-flower, warm yellow. It’s funny in an aching way.)

-

So: 

-

You find a pretty home for yourself. 

It’s bright. The whole world is bright but Oxenfurt is brighter, lovely and warm. You like it there, and you like the people there, and you learn how to play the lute with too-long fingers and glittering dark eyes and sharp white teeth. They don’t care, really. They say you have a lovely voice.

(You crawled through a rip in the world, teeth and fingers- you tore yourself out of darkness- you have a lovely voice. 

It’s nice to hear.)

You stay there in pretty bright Oxenfurt for a long time. You’re a story and a legend and a classmate- students leave things out for you, remember? Sweet drinks and sweet foods. You give gifts in return, sometimes. 

A sparkling necklace, a lullaby crooned in their ear on the edge of sleep. A little bird, once, chattering loud and curious- but the girl had said no, Shadow, we cannot keep wild things. 

~~ No, Julian, the fox kit belongs outside.  ~~

(You take it, then, cradle it in your hands. It is so loudly happy, piping away in your too-long fingers like it loves nothing more than song. You could take it into your darkness, if you wanted, or you could cup your palms over it until it stopped singing.

You take it outside into the sunshine and let it go. It belongs there.)

-

Put your hands up, palms facing inwards, fingers spread. Cross your wrists, thumbs together. 

Now- are you listening? Look down at your shadow. Look up at your shadow, to the side, behind you. There are your hands, twistingly long, and they’re shaped like they might fly away. 

You’ve made yourself smaller, human- you make yourself into that little bird. It’s a tiny shape, and fleeting, and free. 

When you leave Oxenfurt, it’s not the end of anything. The whole world has shadows and the whole world has birds and you’re ready to explore. 

-

(You still don’t know what you are. Not human. A monster, maybe- long fingers, long teeth  ~~ you were scared of the dark ~~ but not a hungry one.)

-

A bluebird, serenading the world from a branch that hardly bends under your weight- a deer, a fox. 

You were human, once. The name  ~~ Julian ~~ doesn’t fit anymore, too small. You borrow a body, but the young man wasn’t using it, and it’s pretty enough you can’t resist. You like pretty things, you’ve found. Bluebirds and silk doublets and music and sunshine (warm yellow), despite what you are. 

-

It doesn’t matter what you are, not really, when you can be something else and someone else. Your shadow is wrong, your shadow is you, your shadow twists up your spine- but people only see your blue eyes and white teeth.

-

You’re a bard, now. (Did you count before?) You sing songs you’d heard before and then, haltingly, you make your own. They taught formulas at Oxenfurt and you listened to them from the corners- rhyming schemes and plotlines, the princess and the knight. 

You’re not human, but you can shadow it. Good enough. 

You meet the Witcher in Posada. 

-

How sunny it is, to be in love! 

-

First a little boy, then a shadow. A monster leaving gifts, a bluebird singing, a bard with a lute. Here’s what you were missing: 

The pretty coin-gold of his eyes. 

A knife-edge smile. 

(White hair, glowing eyes- he’s moonlight. You think, romantically, that you belong together- shadows and midnight, you see, are meant to be-)

You’ve  _ heard _ of love before, of course, in the halls of Oxenfurt. Muses, purposes, the meaning of life, the reason the heart beats- you didn’t even have a heart before you met Geralt, didn’t see the point, but you make one slowly and painstakingly so it can flutter when he smiles. You make a stomach for the butterflies, red blood so you can flush. 

You don’t know if he knows if there’s something not-quite-human about you- his shiny medallion doesn’t hum when you’re around, although you can make it if you like, can hit a note that makes the both of you vibrate in sync. He looks at you strangely because you don’t remember to eat and you don’t know to cry out when you’re hurt. 

-

You’re not human  ~~ anymore ~~ , but you can shadow it. You’ll do your best. You’ll learn. 

**Author's Note:**

> its been months since i last posted and im coming back at u with another wip! im sorry i cannot resist spooky horrible jaskier. hes slimy 
> 
> i think i am getting back into the swing of things however so! if you would like this to continue please send me an ask at redjewelsforeyes.tumblr.com or leave me a comment, they're the lifeblood and structure of my hulking eldritch form 
> 
> love u xx


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